The long-lost sense of reality suddenly returned.
Yan Ci's last punch broke Zhuang Yuefeng's front teeth cleanly.
After he let go of his hand, Zhuang Yuefeng had already collapsed to the ground with his eyes rolled back.
Yan Xianjue said with disdain, "It has a smell."
Even when no one is staying in the guest rooms of Genting Hotel, the fresh air system and air purifier will be turned on 24 hours a day.
So it's not a problem with the room.
Yan Xianjue looked at Zhuang Yuefeng, whose suit pants were soaked with urine, and snorted in his heart.
It was this kind of rubbish that caused his elder sister who loved dancing so much to bid farewell to the stage forever in the plot.
Yan Xianjue turned and left, leaving behind a sentence: "Brother Xiao Wang, wake him up."
Yan Ci looked at his back with some confusion: "Where are you going?"
*
Yan Xianjue didn't answer and walked out the door.
Brother Wang looked at Yan Ci's red fingers and said, "Second Young Master, there's some medicine on the table outside. Do you want to take care of it?"
Yan Ci glanced at Zhuang Yuefeng who was lying on the ground and knew that Brother Wang wanted to get him out.
He nodded in agreement.
When Yan Xianjue walked in again, he saw his second brother, who always pretended to be strong and would only apply medicine after fighting class if his mother watched over him, sitting there obediently and seriously applying the medicine.
He complained, "Your wound is so small, it will heal quickly if you apply the medicine slowly."
When the banquet ends, it is inevitable that there will be direct retorts.
Instead, his eyes fell on the metal baseball bat in Yan Xianjue's hand.
He asked, "Why, I don't have the tools?"
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